Jericho Johnson: The Gauntlet of Time

by J. A. Stowell

  After spilling all this, I finally got to my point.

  “In less than a year after that battle, Russia lost over two-million soldiers and several cities to the German invasion. Not to mention the agricultural bust Russia suffered which delved what was left of the remaining populace into vast food shortages. Bottom line is, if Samsonov would’ve won the Battle of Tannenberg, Russia would’ve most likely won the war. Crushing Germany would’ve been nothing considering how large the armies were. Once Germany was taken Austria-Hungary and Italy would’ve fell right in line to the new rulers. There really wouldn’t have been a limit to the things Russia could’ve accomplished had Samsonov won.”

  Silence followed. Chloe seemed to be staring at the floor really hard while her dad did something similar to the opposite wall.

  “That’s got to be the only logical thing Klaus would be doing.” I said. “There could be a slight chance that he just wants to get a mail-order bride but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  This was meant as a light attempt of humor to, you know, lighten, I guess, the mood.

  It didn’t work.

  “So let’s recap, shall we?” I started, tapping my suit of armor, “How many of these can you produce in a day?”

  “Twenty-thousand is our daily limit.” Dr. Sparks said, “Although we haven’t actually made any in almost two years because we massed produced them and stored almost four million below--“ He stopped talking. I’m guessing the real gravity of Klaus’ plot just hit him in the face with a glass of ice water.

  “No kidding. Four-million?” I echoed, nodding at him. “So he grabs an ungodly amount of firepower, heads back in time to drop it off and gives them over a decade to train. Any chances of him bringing something back to make railroads and highways?”

  Dr. Sparks looked at me. “I suppose he could.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “That’s what I would do. They really needed some decent roads, on the real.”

  Chloe and her father gave me an I-can’t-believe-you’re-talking-about-this look. To which I shrugged and said, “I’m just saying.”

  “If he takes the Dragonovs he won’t need any roads,” Dr. Sparks said, standing to his feet. “This is why the gauntlet had to be hidden, Jericho. I wasn’t able to tell Chloe any of this after Klaus’ men took me into custody and she was sent to retrieve it. Had she known, it would not be here now.”

  “Look, doc,” I said, “I feel like the butterfly effect is a bogus theory, but I have to tell you, I haven’t really done anything too drastic.”

  “Such as?” He asked, clearly worried.

  “Oh, you know, not too much…”

  “He punched Leonardo da’ Vinci in the face,” Chloe said, crossing her arms. “And stole a certain Roman emperor’s fiddle.”

  I gave her a dirty look. Since I didn’t have any siblings growing up, I can’t say if I looked at her the way I would have looked at a tattling brother or sister. But I’m pretty sure I wasn’t far off. “Yeah, like I said, not much. But changing the course of history this drastic doesn’t sound too awesome, if I may say so. No offense, but we beat the Germans. Twice. I don’t know what we would’ve done about you guys.”

  Dr. Sparks turned to his desk. “Neither do I,” was all he said. “I’ll fix the gloves then Chloe will take you home. You’ve done all you can.”

  “Just like that?” I asked, “I mean, tell me about impending doom and then send me home?”

  “It’s not your problem, Jericho-“ Chloe started and I could hear sincerity but I cut her off instead.

  “Forgive me if I’m incorrect, Chloe, but I believe I’m over three-hundred years older than you. If this thing goes south my world is going to hit the fan first. You think I’m going to go back to my sushi tacos and Xbox and just wait for Mother Russia to appear on my doorstep? Not likely. Regardless of what you people might believe, this affects all of us. I’m in it now and I’m not going home.

  Chapter 21

  Once upon a time, there lived an amazing, awesome, super-rich, mega-hottie time-traveler guy from the year 2012. He was always so carefree about what the future might hold because he felt invincible. This ingenious hero also had a way with the ladies…

  …And that’s pretty much all I’ve gotten so far on that little piece. I might finish it later. Preferably on a day that I don’t die. Yeah, that’d rock.

  How’re you hanging with the story so far, whoever-you-are? Is it the good, gripping tale of bodacity that you were hoping for? I sure hope so. It’d be a real bummer to find out I went to all this trouble of recording this thing and you weren’t having a great time out there.

  What time is it, anyway?

  Chloe was silently pacing on the other side of the room after my rant about helping them save the world and her father was tinkering with the gloves. Dr. Sparks had started working on mine first, which was fine by me because apparently that was the only one that mattered anyway, it seemed.

  I decided that Chloe needed a little cheering up. I mean, sure she was a big girl strutting around in a suit of super-armor, but everyone needs a hug every now and then.

  “So what’s the plan, exactly?” I asked her. I know, right? Not exactly the best way to take a girl’s mind off of death and destruction. I thought this after I’d already spoken so I tried to avert the question I’d just thrown out by adding, “’Cause I was kind of thinking that you and I needed to go out sometime and the end of the world would put a big damper on my sweeping you off your feet and all.”

  Chloe smiled and said, “It would be nice to eat a meal when you didn’t have five other girls drooling over you.”

  “Always back to Denny’s with you, isn’t it?” I said, “I mean, don’t you remember all the other things about me?”

  Frowning in thought, she asked, “Good things?”

  “Duh, the good things. I sure don’t want to hear the bad things.”

  “Alright, good things, then…” she said, closing an eye in thought. After a few seconds Chloe said, “I can’t think of any.”

  Laughing, I shoved her shoulder, “What the helheim, man? I was an awesome teacher.”

  “’Oh, Mr. Johnson, you’re, like, the most amazing teacher ever.’” Chloe said in the most amazing teen-chic voice I’ve ever heard someone mock, “OMG, I totally have to Tweet all my friends about you catching the fry I threw in your mouth.’”

  I wasn’t used to being mocked. I mean, just being honest. I was usually the one on the dishing end of mockery- not the receiving end. “Whatever,” I said, “Forgive me for being incredible. If I recall you tossed a fry in the air that night, also.”

  Shrugging, Chloe leaned against the table I was leaning against with my arms folded. “There really isn’t a plan yet,” she said, back to business. Wow. And I thought I was supposed to be making her feel better. But, I guess, her mocking me was fun for her and, don’t tell her I said this, I really didn’t mind it and, also don’t tell her this, she was actually really a blast to be around.

  You know, when we weren’t fighting for our lives against huge robots, freezing elements or giant man-eating spiders.

  Anyway, the point is, the past three consecutive days that I had just spent with Chloe was actually the most time I’d ever spent with one girl, almost. Not saying I was this womanizing player, or anything- just stating the facts. Most of the girls I sent packing weren’t mean or psychopaths, I just didn’t really care to be around them anymore.

  The only other girl I’d spent an enormous length of time with was Piper from my trip to the Vikings.

  Chloe, on the other hand, was someone who I was thoroughly enjoying being around. Maybe because I can literally count on one hand the small amount of women that I don’t mind being around or that all the other girls thought I was some dude who could tell the future that made them unappealing. I’m not really sure. All I know is that Chloe Sparks knew the real me, with all my flaws, yes, I admit I have a few, and she still hadn’t gave me the boot so I’m guessing that she was starting to
enjoy my company, too, maybe.

  And I don’t have that many flaws. Maybe, like, two or three, max.

  And I suppose my helping save her daddy was one of the reasons she didn’t give me the boot. Just saying.

  Then I was thrown from my thoughts by Chloe saying, “I’m really glad you came, by the way. You didn’t have to help me.”

  I have this weird habit of not being able to hold eye-contact with people who are talking directly to me. It’s not that I’m embarrassed or shy or anything. I just can’t, for some reason. But I’m smart enough to know when eye-contact shouldn’t be wavered because of the importance of what whoever is speaking to me is saying.

  I turned my head to look at her and, sure enough, she was looking at me. What was I supposed to say? I mean, I wanted to say a lot of stuff but only, like, two of them had anything to do with what she was saying. I was so glad none of my inner-turmoil showed on my face and I really looked like I was content just staring into her gorgeous face.

  Reaching over, she touched my armored hand with hers. “Thank you.” Was all she said. Then she was gone, walking to the other side of the room where her father was working on the gauntlets.

  And that was pretty much it. I mean, really, Jericho? You couldn’t have said, oh, I don’t know, anything?

  Just wow.

  Since I had apparently made her feel better somehow or another, I waited a few minutes, mainly because I didn’t want her to think I was following her like a rat terrier, before crossing the room. “Sooo…” I said, “How’re the gloves going?”

  “Yours is basically finished.” Dr. Sparks said, holding up mine for me to, I don’t know, examine, I guess, to see if it, you know, was all back to its time-traveling self, and all.

  I took it from him and turned it over in my hands, “Chloe said there wasn’t a plan. So, how would a dude go about making one? ‘Cause I’m not digging this whole end-of-the-world thing. Just saying. And what’s up with Chloe’s gauntlet?”

  Dr. Sparks stood, “I’m afraid the second glove is useless- at least for time-travel. The Z-90 shard was somehow de-energized from the grenade, I’m afraid. Removing a replacement would take days whereas we have an hour, at best.”

  I frowned, “Hour to do what?”

  Then, and I mean, like, right then and most certainly not a whole hour away, an alarm went off. Dr. Sparks, who, to me, should have been running around like a madman, simply sighed and said, “Did I say my hour scenario was wishful thinking?”

  “Yeah, try like two minutes.” I shot at him. “I still don’t know what we’re supposed to do to save the world. I mean, not to sound ungrateful, but you’ve been a tad vague, doc.”

  Dr. Sparks walked to the entrance way and punched away at the keypad, closing what looked like a blast shield on the lab side of the door. “This should by us about ten minutes.” He said before smashing the keypad with hard punch. “Get out of those suits.”

  Without questioning him, Chloe and I proceeded to remove the armor. They were actually easy to get on and off, which was surprising considering how snug you felt strutting around in it. Dr. Sparks eyed our Nazi coats for a second before nodding, “I’d heard a museum had been robbed. I suppose they’ll be warm if you need them for your jump.”

  “Jump to where?” I asked, adjusting my long coat, and looking at him hard thinking that I could stare more info out of him.

  “We only have minutes, so I need both of you to listen carefully,” he said, looking ever the serious dude while he did so. “Klaus is not without friends. The only chance we have to stop him is two years into the future during a revolt in the middle of the city.”

  I frowned. This sounded familiar. I raised my hand.

  “Question.”

  “Yes?” Dr. Sparks said, looking at me like I’d just grown another head.

  “Would this happen to be the same revolt that I die in?”

  Dr Sparks shrugged apologetically then nodded. “The same.”

  “So what, I just, uh, avoid anything that blows up? Is that your plan?”

  “I was going to say not enter the city, but yes, avoiding exploding objects wouldn’t hurt, I’d think,” he said. Holding out his hand, he said, “Let me have the gauntlet one last time.”

  I handed him the glove and looked at Chloe.

  “Chloe?” I said.

  “Hm?”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  Since I said this in a sing-song voice she smiled at me. “Who knows, maybe you’ll die before that so you won’t have to worry about it.”

  “Gee,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. “You always know just what to say.” Then, to her dad, “So why two years from now? I mean, call me crazy, but can’t we just bust in the dude’s office and, I don’t know, shoot him, or something?”

  “Not possible. He’s on constant lockdown due to his numerous enemies in high places,” Dr. Sparks said, punching away at the gauntlet screen. “But, as luck would have it, Klaus is about to follow the two of you after your jump.”

  “And this is a good thing how?”

  “I’ve just programmed your glove to use some of your latest jumps as means to lose them. Since I don’t know where you have been they can’t get anything out of me.” He handed me back the silver-white gauntlet. “You kill Klaus in the revolt, Jericho. Him going after the two of you will put him right where we need him.”

  This was going way, way too fast.

  “Slow down a sec,” I said, “Let me see if I can try and zero in on your logic, doc. You want me and your daughter to get swept around random places in time so that Klaus will follow us and I can kill him two years from now?”

  It sounded crazy. Like, really crazy. But Dr. Sparks nodded, and since I didn’t see any other plan in sight, and also since I’d already manned up again to save the world, I just said, “Okay. Just making sure we were on the same page.”

  “We won’t have any weapons except the gloves,” Chloe pointed out.

  “Don’t worry,” I told her. “I know a guy.”

  Someone pounded hard against the door to the lab and shouted something unintelligible. “That’ll be Klaus,” Dr. Sparks said, seeming almost cavalier about the whole thing. “Chloe, could you give me and Jericho a second?”

  Chloe was probably more than a little curious as to why her daddy wanted to have a talk with the dude she brought home and so was the dude, actually.

  “I know you feel like you don’t know what’s exactly happening or how to act.” He started, looking at me intently, “All I know is when I met you two years from now, you knew what you had to do. I don’t know what happens along the way but in the end, you hate Klaus more than anything.”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to grasp what the good doctor was getting at. “Don’t worry, doc.” I said, smiling reassuringly at him, “I’ll have her home before she turns into a pumpkin.”

  “Don’t let her out of your sight, if you can.”

  I was about to ask him why, exactly, when the pounding stopped and the grinding started on the door. Dr. Sparks pulled us into the center of the room and had to shout over the noise from the guards trying to gain entrance. “These jumps are each timed differently.” He told us, his loud voice echoing in our ears, “When it’s time to go you’ll have to be together or one of you will get left behind.” Then, he touched Chloe’s arm one last time before rushing to the door to, I don’t know, see if he could keep the bad guys out longer, I guess.

  Wow. This plan just got more and more half-cocked by the second. We just stood there, not really sure what we were supposed to be doing- until I looked at the screen on my glove.

  There was a timer on the bottom right hand corner of the screen that was counting down.

  It had seven seconds left. Panicking, I grabbed Chloe around the waist with my left arm, pulling her to me as I checked what our destination was.

  794 A.D.

  “Hope you like Icelandic cod, sweetheart,” I told her.

  The last thi
ng Chloe said before her face melted away with mine into the fabrics of time and space was, “What’s cod?”

  Oh yeah. This was going to be a blast.

  That was sarcasm, if you didn’t catch it the first time.

  Just saying

  Chapter 22

  Svalbard, January 17th, 794 A.D.

  For those of you out there who have actually been listening to every awesome word I’ve been saying, you might recall that my first expedition to the Vikings was in 793 A.D. and not, in fact, 794 A.D.

  I guess this is the best time to tell you that I stayed with my brethren of the north almost three months and carried over into 794…

  They were freakin’ great. Sue me.

  Also since I didn’t go back to the first time I got there I was thinking that all the jumps would land me back to when I left and not when I arrived. As far as the Vikings were concerned, this wasn’t that bad.

  I could think of a few of my last voyages that landing at when I left might not be the safest place to be. Just saying.

  Since I’d just been running through a frozen ten below wasteland not too long ago, the twenty degree weather of the Nordic land felt like the freakin’ Bahamas, let me tell you.

  We were still plastered together for a few seconds after successfully jumping with me holding her around the waist like the cover of a scandalous romance novel. “Hi,” I told her, waggling my eyebrows. “What’s a Russian chic like you doing in a Viking place like this?”

  She pushed away from me, “What’s the date?”

  “Well, I was hoping we could have our first real date, you know, after we save the world but Svalbard is as good a place as any, I guess.”

  She glared at me. Dang. Just when I thought she was warming up to me she started glaring again. “It’s January seventeenth, 794 A.D. and we’re on Svalbard, a lovely little mega island which is about halfway between Norway and the North Pole and is home to some of most merry band of Vikings that ever lived. In a few hundred more years from now people will refer to this little patch of frozen heaven as part of the Arctic. Also, the summer is around forty-three degrees, tops.” I peered around at the barren snow-covered, mountainous island, “History says that the Vikings didn’t discover this place until the twelfth century. Just FYI.”